


a crusade for the modern world

by the_sundance_kid



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Person, Gen, POV Original Character, POV Outsider, and the REAL enemy is apathy, there is an implied attempt at sexual assault but batman intervenes As He Does, this is basically an oc spouting an essay on the point of batman, which is that any ordinary person can make a difference in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sundance_kid/pseuds/the_sundance_kid
Summary: “Because--” and his voice was too big for him-- “it needs doing. And I can do it.” he reached under his cape with his good arm and pulled a roll of bandages out of nowhere. Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. “Because I never want there to be another me. I was born in the dark. I will die in the light.”Why does Batman do what he does? What does it matter if he saves one person, in the grand rotten scheme of Gotham City?
Relationships: Batman & Gotham
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	a crusade for the modern world

**Author's Note:**

> There's a playlist for this story here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2lRQZyAojGQMT5sLVbBAVa?si=bnijo_kfRxS67Pw-MkrRfA  
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it. Leave a review and let me know what you think!

Gotham is a city built like a labyrinth. She’s all twisted alleyways and dim understreets, a stitched-together Frankenstein of bad neighborhoods. If you want to get anywhere fast, you don’t take the main roads. If you want to get anywhere safe, you don’t take shortcuts. Especially in recent years. The best thing to do is to keep your head down, and learn how to have eyes on the back of your head. 

My job is several miles away from my apartment, and I don’t have a car, or a bike, or money for the bus. 

I was almost home when I heard the familiar sound of someone getting punched. I froze where I stood. In the mouth of an alley, lined with litter. A stupid place to stop. But my feet were glued to the pavement. I could hear voices. A man and a woman.

If I squinted, I could make out the silhouettes of two people. In the darkness, there was a confusing mesh of shadows and movement. There was a flash of light overhead---some police helicopter with a searchlight, I think. I saw that the woman’s shirt was torn, badly. I caught a glimpse of her bra strap, the top edge of one cup. The man had cornered her. He was holding a scrap of fabric, and his fist was raised. I couldn’t see his face, but the woman had a black eye, and her cheek was horribly swollen and bruised. 

I didn’t move. 

But just as the light faded, something else did. 

This is the part where I lose you. Because what I saw could not have been a man. It was big, bigger than any person has a right to be, and it was made of the shadows of the alley. Its eyes glowed dimly, white light in the shape of a scowl. It dropped on the man from above, spread its wings--wings, like a bat’s--and the man crumpled beneath it. Like Michael planting his foot on Lucifer’s chest. The man was still alive, but he didn’t move. I know because the Batman checked. 

I saw him-- _ him? It?-- _ kneel where the woman had fallen. I saw him lay a gentle hand on her shoulder, careful never to touch her exposed skin. I saw him tie the rapist’s hands together, truss him up like a Thanksgiving turkey. I saw him see me. 

My legs finally moved; I backed away from the alley as the Batman walked with the woman out onto the street. I saw them fade into the shadows together. 

I hurried home. I’d had enough excitement for one night. 

You’d think that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. 

Because after that, rumors about the Batman began to take off. On the street, online, everywhere. And it was a relief to know I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t the only one who’d seen him. But I remembered the feeling of his eyes on me. I think he saw me at my worst. In the moment, I’d felt made of stone. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted too, except that I could have, and I hadn’t.  _ I’m a coward,  _ I thought.  _ I’m---why didn’t I do something? Say something?  _

But I hadn’t. Sometimes I tried to tell myself-- _ clearly the Batman isn’t human. What could I have done? What could I have done?  _ But it only made me feel worse. I stalked forums for stories about him. Most people agreed he was some kind of god, or a demon, or an angel. Something. Anything but human. 

The second time I saw Batman, it was the middle of the night--probably around 2 A.M. My friend Kate had dragged me to her favorite bar as moral support, and then she’d gotten blackout drunk. I was trying to wrangle her home. It was harder than it should have been. Kate is like an affectionate limpet when she’s drunk.

We were maybe a block out when a man with a gun stopped us on the street. 

I froze, and Kate nearly fell off my shoulder. “Hey man, we don’t have any money,” I said. 

“Get out your  _ fucking  _ wallet.” 

I got out my fucking wallet. There wasn’t much inside. 

“Hers, too.” The asshole jerked the gun at Kate. “Before I do something I might regret.”

Kate is in even worse financial straits than me. “She doesn’t  _ have anything!”  _

The man cocked the gun. I could hear the  _ click  _ noise echo like the whole world had gone still around us. There were the three of us, and there was the gun---and there was the Batman. 

He dropped out of the sky. His cape-- _ cape? Cloak?--- _ streamed behind him like a banner. He was a solid block of night. Those terrible, righteous eyes bore through my skull. 

An almighty fist connected with a very mortal cheekbone like a crack of thunder through the darkness. 

The mugger went down like a sack of bricks. 

A flash of light, an enormous  _ bang! _ \---the gun had been fired!---a grunt of pain---and stillness. 

I strained my eyes. The Batman was still there. He was--bleeding. He was bleeding. The bullet had grazed his arm, and blood was leaking on his cape. 

The Batman is not a demon. Or a god. Or an eldritch horror beyond mortal ken. He is a man. He is only a man. 

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. Not  _ are you okay  _ or  _ oh my god you’ve been shot.  _

Superman isn’t human. Wonder Woman isn’t human. I understand them. I do not understand the Batman. 

“Because--” and his voice was too big for him-- “it needs doing. And I can do it.” he reached under his cape with his good arm and pulled a roll of bandages out of nowhere. Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. “Because I never want there to be another me. I was born in the dark. I will die in the light.”

His conviction was a physical presence. I could feel the weight of it on my shoulders.  _ A crusade for the modern world,  _ I thought. 

“Can you get home by yourselves?” 

I nodded dumbly. The shadows swallowed him. 

I haven’t seen the Batman since. But I feel like he’s hanging over my shoulder, smoldering with righteous fury. When I look the other way, I feel the Batman’s eyes on me, and there is no way to hide from him. 


End file.
